


Home II

by pxnsophical



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Credence smut, F/M, First Time, Grinding, I'm ashamed to have written this, Nipple Play, Praise Kink, Sex, Slight fluff, bottom credence, crying credence, im shamefully in love with credence, obviously, sorta - Freeform, submissive credence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:06:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8633062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pxnsophical/pseuds/pxnsophical
Summary: Credence has finally found someone who truly cares about him and when his mother, Mary Lou, demands he leave her behind, he finds that rather than go their separate ways, the pair get just a little bit closer.(I'm garbage at summaries I promise the actual writing is better.)





	

    Eight o’clock rolls around and your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating the arrival of Credence at the door of your cozy apartment in New York. Every night after all of his flyers were handed out and his horrid Mother had stopped preaching about the horrors of magic, he snuck away to see you and though you’d been doing it for months, you hadn’t grown used to seeing him every day and having him safe in your home, if only for an hour or two. You made him dinner, patched up wounds from his mother, talking with him. You did most of the talking, but nevertheless. It happened. You’d met almost a year ago as you’d rushed to work, bumping him on your way up the seemingly hundreds of steps into the imposing bank. It was hard to imagine that the two of you could have come as far as you did, Credence especially. You didn’t know what you meant to him, but you liked to think that he trusted you, especially with the knowledge of him of being an obscurial, and you cared for him very much.

    A knock sounded at your door and you rushed forward, unlatching the lock and pulling open the door. “Hey,” you said, smiling. “Hello.” He answered, eyes trained on his shoes, left hand gripped tightly around his right, thumb ghosting over puckered red and pink marks. “Credence,” you frowned, “What happen-“ “I can’t come anymore.” He interjected, head rolling to the side as it did whenever he got nervous. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, left hand tightening on his right. “Mother knows I’m making excuses and she’s very angry.” He whispered, wincing with the last word. He turned away without your response, and you lurched forward, gripping his wrist in your hand and yanking him in the door. It slammed shut behind him and he cowered against the cold wood. You gripped his jaw in your hands, “Credence, please” you pleaded, stomach churning. “We can figure something out, I promise! You can just tell me where you’ll be handing out flyers the next day and I’ll come and see you and maybe-“ you broke off when a sob rolled from between his lips, head twitching to the side.

    You gathered him in your arms, one hand wrapped around the back of his neck, thumb rubbing him gently. “I don’t want to leave.” he whimpered into your shoulder, fingers shaking at his sides. You lip trembled and you turned your head to nuzzle into his hair, walking the two of you backwards towards your couch. You sat down and rather than sit beside you he knelt at your feet, head sliding to rest on your chest, warm tears dampening your shirt. You wrapped your arms around him once more, trying to calm him down as small wisps of his obscurus started rising from his skin, some floating in the air around him while others wound themselves around your arms, burning hot. “ _Shhhh_ , Credence,” you whispered before stiffening, eyes widening in shock when his arms slowly rose to wrap around you. Credence never touched you. Never. Hugging was his limit and only receiving them, and even that was unwelcome and alien to him at first.

    You relaxed slowly, and held him as close as you could, murmuring comforting words. He eventually stopped crying and you reached down, pulling him up to face you. At the sight of his red face, eyes puffy and wet with unshed tears, a sad, soft “Oh, _baby_ ” left your lips before you could stop it. You froze, hands jerking away quickly “Credence, I’m so sorry. I don’t know where it came from. I’m so sorry.” You whispered with embarrassment, cheeks going up in flames. You’d thought about loving and wanting Credence once or twice, but squashed those feelings immediately. Credence didn’t need a relationship, Credence needed a caregiver; someone who would take care of him and protect him and treat him well. You were being so fucking selfish, doing that to him. Imposing your feelings on him like Credence was a normal boy and didn’t need to be handled with care. For a moment, you truly hated yourself.

    Credence, on the other hand, wasn’t as unhappy. He was surprised and wasn’t quite sure what he wasn’t feeling, but he wasn’t angry. He’d seen some newspapers and books about romance and relationships, seen a great many couples while handing out flyers for his mother. He was, however, unnerved. He’d never experienced anything like the way you treated him and imagined the way he felt knocking on your door was akin to love. He assumed it had to be. He wasn’t quite sure where to go from here, but he knew he had to act fast before you retreated into yourself in shame, the same way you did when you grabbed him and hugged him the first time. So he acted.

    You were drawing your legs to a cross beneath you, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes trying to create as little space as possible for you to seem intimidating to him when he reached up, hands gripping the sides of your face just like you did to him every time he panicked. You froze again, eyes wide as he shakily drew closer, head tilting like he’d seen couples on the street do. The kiss was soft and innocent, and his hands shook as he drew away. Head down, he looked up through his eyelashes to see your wide eyes. “i just-“ he stammered, “I just- ah- I just didn’t want you to feel bad.” he continued quietly. “I don’t mind that you called me, ah,” he stuttered, “that.” And he didn’t. He felt comforted by it, if anything. He knew it meant that one person cared about the other. It was a name for that. He was happy that you cared about him. That someone did. He felt okay when he was with you, sometimes even happy. He wanted to be around you, his heart beat a little faster every time you opened the door almost as soon as he knocked. He almost felt normal.

    You inhaled deeply, taking his shaking fingers into your hands. “You didn’t have to do that.” You whispered, and his head whipped back and forth sharply. “I, ah, I wanted to.” He admitted softly. “I see couples in the street do it sometimes. You, um, you aren’t upset are you?” He looked up at you with wide doe-like eyes, teeth nibbling on his lower lip nervously. “No! No no no,” you stuttered in shock. He just looked at you and in the split second you made the decision to do something either really smart or really stupid.

    You pulled him up and into your lap quickly and clumsily, casing his head in your hands, palms on his jaw, fingers in his hair. You looked at him, wide eyed but not in protest, and kissed him again. The first touch of your lips was a little harsh and you backtracked immediately, pulling away to go back in softer this time, lips slowly meeting his. He didn’t pull away and after a few pecks he slowly started inching forward to meet your kisses, lips parting a little. His hands twitched in his lap, sitting between your legs, and he made it up his mind to try holding your face like you did his, long fingers laying gently against your skin. You took it as encouragement and began sucking on his upper lip slowly, pulling away to exhale a heated breath between your lips, and he breathed you in before nudging his face towards you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth the way you’d done for him. He suckled on the flesh for a moment before he pulled away, eyes blinking open to silently ask you how he was doing. You smiled, leaning forward to press your lips just barely against his before whispering “ _relax_.” Your tongue swiped gently against his lower lip and he shuffled closer in your lap, legs wrapping around your waist. It was an unusual scenario but you liked it. His head tilted downwards, even closer to you when your tongue swiped across his lips again and his lips spread wider to allow your tongue entrance. You lapped at his teeth and the roof of his mouth slowly, sucking on his tongue when he dared poke it forward. He moaned and then jumped immediately afterwards, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. He’d never made a sound like that before, the most sexual sound was the sound of his exhale the one time he’d dared masturbate, but he’d never done it again for fear of Mother finding out.

At his moan you felt a heat start building in your abdomen, but this was not about you. This was about him, instigated by him, for him. For your beautiful baby boy.

    You made out like this for what felt simultaneously like an eternity and only a second, passion boiling in the pit of your chest. When the whimpers had died down and he’d become too accustomed to the feeling of your mouth on his for you to be happy, you kissed along his jaw down to his neck, continuing your path down to his collarbone, pushing down his shirt, where you could mark him as yours and it’d be between only the two of you. You looked up at him after licking and kissing at one particular spot below the hollow of his neck. “Can I?” you asked huskily, and his head dropped forward from where it had lolled back. He seemed to contemplate it for a moment, before finally nodding. “Yes.” You smiled, and whispered a soft “thank you” followed by a kiss against his skin. You kissed again, and again, and again, and eventually the kisses turned into licks and the licks melted into sucks that bled into nips at his skin and soon you could feel him subtly rocking against you, unknowing of what his body really wanted but seeking it nonetheless. When the bruise on his skin was dark and you knew it’d stay there for weeks, you pulled away. You looked at him, head lolling on his shoulders, eyes closed, body waiting for whatever you’d do next. Your heart swelled in your chest, filling your body until you thought you might burst. “You’re so beautiful, Credence. So beautiful.” You muttered, and his eyes slowly opening, a tiny smile inching at the corner of his lips. You watched each other for a minute, savoring the moment and the feel of each other this close, so new and so so wonderful.

    He moved first, much to your surprise. He'd surprised you a lot tonight. His fingers crawled down your body to the hem of your shirt and a gorgeous pink hue rose in his cheeks. His fingers rolled and unrolled the edge of your shirt, a silent question on his lips. You nodded, and held your arms in the air so he could pull the material off of you, and were doubly surprised when he pulled his off as well. He read your shock and whispered ashamedly “I read a, uh, a sexy book one time that I found inside the bookstore I was handing out flyers at.” You nearly cried at how cute he was and leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest to kiss his neck again. “So beautiful.” When you pulled back he seemed to have a question on the tip of his tongue so you waited, and when he finally asked your stomach exploded with the world's biggest butterflies. “Can you call me that name again?” he asked and you nodded immediately. “You can touch me, if you want.” You responded, leaning against the couch to give him time to decide what to do. His innocence was evident when his fingers, rather than the men you usually messed around with, went to trace your curves gently rather than rip your bra from your body. His fingers ghosted across your skin, goosebumps rising in their wake. They covered every exposed inch of your body and when he bent over to place a chaste kiss on the swell of your breast, you exhaled shakily. You reached behind you, unclasping your bra and sliding it off of your body and tossing it to the side before relaxing again. You’d give him time to get acquainted.

    His fingers rose from where they’d been drawing small circles on your waist, desperate to touch you but unsure of where to go, sliding their way up your body to trace the soft flesh beneath your breasts. He exhaled slowly through his nose before reaching to cup your breasts, feeling their weight settle in his hands. His thumbs slid over your pebbled nipples and you arched forward, moaning low in your throat. He did it again, watching the way you reacted with pride. It was something. He was doing something right, he could tell.

    He tried gently pinching the hardened tip with his fingers, pants tightening around his hardening cock when you moaned even louder, pressing your breasts even further into his hand. He’d forgotten about himself completely, so lost in the wonder that was your body to him. Your body, your mind, everything about you. Even now that he noticed, he wasn’t concerned with himself, at most he was bothered by how restrictive his pants where.

    He leaned forward, tongue darting out experimentally to lap at your nipple, eyes watching your face to see your response. You could feel him watching you and tilted your head toward him, eyes hazy with lust, lips parted so your tongue could moisten your lips. “You’re doing so good, baby.” you complimented huskily. His eyes fluttered at the word ‘baby’ and he, rather than licking your nipples, began sucking on them slowly, sensually. The feeling was new for you as well, nobody having taken the time to truly know and feel your body like Credence, the most unsuspected human, has done. You whimpered, hand floating up to rest on his head. He moaned, unsure as to why but subconsciously loving the feeling of being wanted, being held to you like that, being simultaneously controlled and appreciated, both in charge of the situation but not really. He was very confused but very, very aroused.

    When you were trembling and your hips had started slowly rolling into his, you stopped him, carefully pulling his face from your chest. You trailed your hand from jaw to waistband, uttering a breathy “Is this okay?” He nodded slowly, but didn’t reach for his belt and it took you a moment to realize. When you did, you understood immediately. You leaned forward, catching his lips with yours and quickly rid him of the belt, throwing it far across the room where he could hear it land. “You need to stand,” you informed him and when he did, unwinding his legs from your waist and pulling himself from your lap, you pulled his pants down his legs, sliding them across the floor away from the two of you. “You too,” he murmured, shuffling nervously in his simple black underwear. You pulled your skirt past your hips, leaving you in just panties and him in just boxers. You sat down again, grabbing his hand and guiding him back onto your lap. When he was settled, knees on either sides of your waist, head tucked into your neck, he asked you a question. “I thought girls were supposed to sit on top?” he whispered innocently, trying to mimic the feel of your lips sucking at his neck on you. “Do you want me to sit on top?” you asked quietly, tracing your fingers up and down his back. He shook his head slowly, “no. I like it here.” You grinned. “Then boys can sit on top, too.”

    You titled his head towards you, kissing him softly on the nose, then the cheek, then the lips and he melted into you, chest pressing against yours, hands reaching forward to wrap around you, lips sliding against yours. You decided to take yet another chance and reached forward, brushing your finger over his pretty nipples and he whined, pressing into your hand without a thought. At the same time, his hips bucked forward against your tummy and you could feel his cock straining against the thin material of his underwear. You wrapped an arm around him and slid to the side, bring him down to lay over you, cock pressed against your pubic bone. “Is this okay?” you checked, and he nodded quickly. You kissed him again, fingers brushing past his nipple once more and he canted forward, cock sliding against your body. He moaned loudly, arms nearly giving out above you. He stuttered out an apology and you tutted, “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.” One hand slid from his back down to the dip at the waistband of his underwear. He nodded again and you slid your hand beneath the material, firmly gripping his ass.

    You kissed him again, pushing his hips down using your hand on his ass. He caved to your will, and you responded by bending your knees so that your warm, wet center was more exposed to him -as exposed as it could be through your panties- and you kissed him again, sucking on his shoulder and playing with his nipple with your spare hand, reveling in the way he quaked above you. When you gently sunk your teeth into him, lapping at the mark afterwards, his hips rolled forwards, and shaking moan ripping its way from his throat. He pulled back immediately and you groaned, tightening your grip on his ass, pushing his hips into you and rolling into him at the same time. When the wet cloth slid across his aching cock he whimpered, hips shooting forwards again and again. When he caught himself, he whimpered a soft “I’m sorry,” and you growled. “Let go, Credence. It’s okay. _Do what feels good_.” He nodded softly, tilting his hips to slide his clothed cock against your folds again.

    He moaned, hips stuttering as a ball of pressure began building in his abdomen, balls tightening. Both of your breaths quickened into loud, hurried pants. You moaned compliments and pleas, the feel of his cock sliding past your folds almost unbearable. He thrust against you over and over, the two of you moaning in unison, and you gasped when his eyes began turning a grayish-white, black wisps spilling from his flesh like ink from a pen into the air, more and more of it seeping from his pores the closer and closer he got. It was beautiful, you could literally see him coming undone. When you thought he was there, when you thought he was just about to cum, he stilled. From somewhere besides himself, from someone that was both Credence and not, came a voice. “Please.” It demanded, attempting to disguise it as a question. “I need to feel you.” You nodded, and he stood to pull the soaking panties from your body, sliding his precum stained boxers from his body as well. You reached behind you into the bedside table, pulling out one of the last of your condoms from under a book. He didn’t ask and you didn’t say, but you knew that your Credence- somewhere inside that body, inside his own mind- was unhappy, his obscurial sending strands of blackened smoke, hot to the touch, to whip at your wrist as your hand drew between the two of you. He knelt between your legs again and you rolled the condom onto his length, average but beautiful in its own right. He whimpered at the contact, hips bucking into your hand. He shuffled as close as possible and you spread your legs around him, opening yourself to him. You took his flushed cock in your hand and lined him up, sliding your finger along his tip. He moaned but hesitated and you cupped his jaw in your hand. “Credence, baby, it’s okay.”

     He shuddered, following his instincts and gently kissing your finger before he inched inside of you. With every inch he pressed inside of you the concentration of black smoke being forced out of him thickened, pulsing around the two of you. His eyes rolled back and he moaned, shallowly thrusting inside of you. You knew he wouldn’t last long and the increased fervor in which the smoke thrashed around you only proved it so you reached down, fingers meeting your clit to rub quickly against the nub. He gained confidence with your shameless moaning thrust a little deeper, eyes filled with so much love and appreciation it caused tears to gather in the corner of your eyes. “Credence, i love you.” you gasped quietly, and he shuddered to a halt, smoke exploding outwards from his body, slamming with an audible force against the walls of your living room, your lamps being thrown across the floor and the glass of your overhead fan and light busting, clinking to the floor in a million shiny bits. He moaned long and hard, hips shallowly fucking into you as his cum shot from him in thick spurts, filling the condom. His head dropped into the crook of your neck and you could see the white in his eyes was still fading and the sight of him, your beautiful, tense, kind, misunderstood Credence coming undone for you, forgetting his worries for you, was enough to tip you over the edge. You shattered, blasting apart like the bulb of your lights had clenching and unclenching around his cock. You arched into him and he sighed, wrapping an arm around your back to hold you to him while you came, committing the way your naked body felt branded to his to memory. “I think I love you too.” he whispered, breathing hard. When the last band within you had snapped, you fell back against the bed. He pulled out of you and you reached up, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from his face.

   You noticed a tear on the end of his eyelash and kissed his eyelid, tasting the salt. “Are you okay?” you asked. He looked up at you, boyish features and blatant innocence returning to his face. A small smile twitched at the corner of his lips and his eyes met yours directly. “Yes. I’m okay. I am happy and I think I love you.” he said shakily, marveling in the fact that he, Credence Barebone, had something to love. Someone to love. And someone that loved him _back_.

**Author's Note:**

> If you think you've seen this writing on tumblr as well, you have. I also have it posted under my Credence imagine blog 'Bareboneing.tumblr.com' where you can send me requests for imagines and fics. Hope you liked it!


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